Chapter 2850: Peyote’s Good Faith

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Three Mischief Encampment

Field Marshal Lorn was stunned as she watched her young lord at work. Not only had he used the devil, Peyote, as a patsy, he was now scolding him for being too foolish even for that role. His control over the situation operated on an entirely different level.

Her mind struggled to grasp how he had managed to make someone clearly stronger than all of them combined stammer, pleading just to be heard. It was beyond her.

She had come here prepared for a decisive battle, already resigned to the possibility of her own death. Yet there he stood, berating that very entity like a child caught in a mistake.

What astonished her even more was that the devil could not retort. Peyote stood there, dumbfounded—shaken by the very reasoning her young lord laid out, unable to find a single flaw in it.

The Field Marshal learned something today: when it came to her young lord, it was best to act as he commanded—just as she once had with her niece.

In truth, she preferred it this way. The pressure of making the right decision never truly left; she would rather choose a path and make it right than hesitate and falter. Still, she couldn’t deny the pull to handle things more efficiently, more effectively.

After all, she saw herself as a responsible member of society. Given the choice, she would always rather be part of the solution than the problem.

The Field Marshal’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt as her gaze swept the surroundings, their primary concern had always been the world leaders—the devil was secondary, then she spotted a familiar figure. It was Lil’Baem. She was back with Corey.

The Field Marshal’s eyes narrowed for a moment before she shook her head with a quiet sigh. Corey’s return could only mean one thing: Sky Blossom City was safe. If it had been under attack, she wouldn’t have come back—she would have stayed to deal with it.

Still, she shouldn’t have rushed back so carelessly...But then again, it was Corey. She acted as if it would kill her to listen to what someone told her to do.

Also, with most of the threat now handled, the Field Marshal decided to leave Corey be. Honestly, she was too mentally exhausted to deal with her. They hadn’t actually done much, but the tension had been real—constant vigilance, watching every little detail, had taken its toll on both her mind and eyes.

Her young lord, however, had other plans. With a subtle signal, he ordered her to intercept Corey and stop her from coming any closer.

...

I looked at Peyote, who was scrambling to salvage the moment. He was thinking hard, but from the look on his face, nothing had come to him yet. Then, midway through, he snapped out of it and turned toward the north.

A white serpent was rushing toward us at great speed. It was Corey and Lil’ Baem. At the sight of her, Peyote’s beady eyes narrowed, killing intent flickering within them.

"Then there’s her," I said lightly. "One of my more troublesome subordinates—though I do enjoy keeping her around. I don’t see much reason to hear you out."

"Wait, wait—I can undo my skill on her."

"You can do that? Then why didn’t you?"

"Earlier because of the paradox and now because it comes at a high cost. I won’t be able to use my innate skill on her or her bloodline ever again. Earlier, we were enemies, so I saw no reason to undo it. But if we’re allies... I might."

"Again," I said, unimpressed, "if I kill you, all my problems solve themselves."

"Please... I’m begging you. It doesn’t have to end this way. I have no intention of pursuing old grievances. I want to move forward—with my life, with my ambitions. Ever since I was reborn, it’s been nothing but a nightmare. I don’t want to fight you or your subordinates.

"Just tell me what you want in return for helping me. I’ve been clear—honest—about what I want. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?"

Hearing Peyote say this, a faint smile finally touched my lips. At the same time, I signaled the Field Marshal to intercept Corey before she could rush over and ruin the moment I had so carefully set up.

However, as if anticipating interference from the Field Marshal, the moment Lil’Baem noticed her, her colossal body moved.

A ripple ran from head to tail, a precise serpentine undulation—but this wasn’t mere motion through space. Each wave compressed the space ahead of her and stretched it behind, effectively shortening the distance she had to traverse. Instead of crossing the gap in the conventional sense, she displaced herself through it.

The result was immediate and disorienting. Her velocity didn’t just increase—it spiked beyond what her physical form alone should have allowed. She vanished from sight, not because she turned invisible, but because she exited the frame of normal motion.

Before any of us could react, she reappeared several miles behind us.

The transition, however, wasn’t clean. There was a slight spatial jitter at her reappearance point, a misalignment that hinted at instability. Judging by the imprecision of her landing and the inefficiency of the displacement, this was likely her first successful attempt at the technique.

It reminded me of the way I manipulated space—though her method differed in form, the underlying principle was the same, the elasticity of the space.

The mother and daughter duo were learning... copying my moves, then reshaping them into something of their own. I loved seeing them grow. I just didn’t like that they were using it against me.

"Wyatt, don’t you dare add him to your disguised criminal-recruitment program. I have to kill him—for everything he’s put me through."

I glanced at the Field Marshal. Guilt flickered across her face. She could have stopped Lil’Baem—her Starry Eyes had already traced the trajectory of the approach. All she had to do was freeze the space. But she hesitated.

And now I had to deal with this lunatic.

However, before I could say anything to calm Corey down, Peyote acted first and lifted his innate skill from her, freeing her. It was a calculated move. Not only did it demonstrate good faith, it also freed up his ability—False Witness—for him to use it on me, the one person who he believed could help with him with his ambition.

One way or another, he had decided—today he would secure his entry into one of the top three ruler-class factions of the Myriad Realms.

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